Chapter 1

The gasoline smelled sharp in the cold Appalachian air, burning my nostrils. I kept my head down, working the siphon tube with a shaky hand. Every sound from the woods around me made me jump.

This was for Jocelyn. She was back at the volunteer house, curled up with a fever, and she needed medicine from the pharmacy twenty miles away. My car was on empty, and the town's only gas station had closed hours ago.

"Just borrow a little from old man Hemlock's truck," Caleb had said, a smirk playing on his lips. "He's got a full tank. He'll never notice."

Caleb Morris. My girlfriend's ex. He and I were stuck in this mandatory community service program together, a whole year of resume-padding in a town that time forgot. He hated me, and the feeling was mutual. He blamed me for a rumor that wrecked his social life back home, a rumor I never started.

But Jocelyn was sick. She'd coughed so weakly, her hand on her forehead. "Ethan, please? I feel awful."

So here I was, stealing gas like a common thief. A branch snapped behind me. I froze, my heart hammering against my ribs. I pulled the tube out, spilling a little gas on my jeans, and quickly screwed the cap back on. I had enough. It was time to go.

Just as I turned, a bright flashlight beam hit my face, blinding me.

"Well, well. What do we have here?" a gruff voice boomed.

It was Hemlock, the foreman. And behind him, several other locals, their faces hard in the harsh light.

My stomach dropped. I was caught.